La Vie en Rose
by whitelips paleface
Summary: "This magic spell you cast, this is la vie en rose." Esme is an avid visitor at the local women's shelter and volunteer at the local hospital. Carlisle is more than content in his small town hospital, however, a young woman reminds him of a human Esme. The couple relive painful memories through her.
1. Hold Me Close

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the rightful owner of Twilight. **

**~.~.~**

Not much occurs in small towns; much like the small town in Hartford, Connecticut, where the Cullens are currently residing. However, when something does happen, it shakes up the whole community. It's not been long since the Cullens arrived in this community; although keeping a low profile, they helped in every way conceivable under the sun.

Town hospitals tend to be the perfect place for the blonde doctor, as they typically were under the radar. It may not have all the fancy equipment that more prominent hospitals possess, but he was perfectly content with his place in the smaller hospitals. The discernment of community and comradery was all he required; it reminded him of his own family.

On a distinct gloomy morning in the small town, the doctor was performing his final rounds before his shift ended. The sound of the rain banging on the ceiling and the windows were like music to his ears, whereas other people it was an inconvenience. The once quiet hallways began to pick up speed by the minute. Various doctors were rushing to answer their pages; patients' family members were slowly arriving or leaving to go home and freshen up. It was a habit he picked up, observing everyone that walked by and every situation that unfolded before his eyes.

The doctor slightly loosened his tie around his neck, preparing to rid himself of the inefficient accessory as soon as his shift was over. The one accessory he did seem necessary was the paper coffee cup that contained steaming hot coffee. He observed that the heat from the coffee helped maintain his hands at a favorable temperature for the patients when he went and checked on them.

Dumping the now cold coffee into the nearest trash can, he checked on the time on the watch he kept on his wrist during work hours; he was still on time. He did a mental checklist before he went into the room; stethoscope? Check. Light Pen? Check. Cookies his wife baked? Check. He let out a soft sigh before bringing up his knuckles to the stout wooden door and brushed them against the door.

Upon opening the door, the blinds were only slightly ajar, permitting the smallest rays of sun seeping through the windows. On the couch, a young woman was tapping her foot anxiously with tired eyes as she gazed at the older woman on the gurney. "Dr. Cullen," the older woman spoke out, turning her head to look at the blonde doctor.

"I need not tell you again to call me Carlisle, Violeta," he gave her a polite smile, immediately going over her charts. His smile faltered as the little hope he had begun to diminish every day.

The older woman smiled and turned her head, her eyelids fluttering closed. The younger woman sighed and began to gather her belongings, slowly pulling her jacket over her limbs, trying not to wince. Grabbing her backpack from the couch, she walked towards the blonde doctor. He towered over her; however, she didn't cower how she typically would. "Good morning, Carlisle," she smiled meekly, her gaze still low, avoiding eye contact.

Carlisle gave her a sympathetic smile, studying the way her heartbeat hastened whenever she would glance in his general direction. "Good morning, Natalia," he greeted her and moved around her to grab her charts from the bedside table. "Would you like some cookies?" Carlisle grabbed the plastic baggie that contained the three chocolate chip cookies. "My wife baked them.'

Natalia smiled and reached over to grab the bag from his hold, oblivious to how cold his hands were, considering how sickeningly warm the hospital was. "Thank you, Carlisle. Let your wife know I said thank you," she said softly, tucking the bag into her pocket. "I'll see you later," she breathed out before she scurried out the door.

Carlisle sighed and followed soon after and flittered over towards his office to retrieve his belongings and make his way towards home.

_Home._

**~.~.~**

Deep in the forest, a grand house rested in the middle of the great trees. It was acres and miles of green trees and the occasional meadow that was home to the most exquisite flowers. Only a few miles north, and there was a lovely river that flowed through the land. The house -or better yet mansion- was an astonishing three-story home that had an open floor plan with many valuable artifacts stowed away in the home.

The forest was as calm as it ever was; however, inside the house, it was chaotic. The Cullen kids were getting ready for school for the umpteenth time, a different array of music emitting throughout the house. The matriarch of the family was in her studio, packing her bag for the day. The studio was adorned with various canvases hung around the room with different artworks. In one corner, there were plenty of blueprints to reconstruct the homes in Connecticut.

As she slung her bag across her shoulder, she heard the sound of marble hitting against marble and immediately bickering. Not being able to fathom the predicament her children had gotten into, the brunette closed her eyes and let happy thoughts wash out the negative ones.

However, before she got to the landing, they were off to school. Her spirits were lifted when she heard the familiar sound that she loved; tires were turning onto the gravel driveway and into their ample garage. The sound of the car door opening and closing softly and the airy footfalls of her favorite person would've made her heart flutter.

At the sight of her husband walking into their threshold, her smile grew more prominent, and her heart was full of love and adoration. "My Esme," he spoke as he walked up to her.

The way he pulled her into a hug would make any onlooker jealous. He held her with such tenderness and compassion; the only way he's ever touched her. Never would he dare to lay a hand on the woman he loved that wasn't in a manner that will make her feel safe and comfortable. "Carlisle," she breathed out, relishing in the delightful scent her husband owned. Over the years, she grew accustomed to the lingering smell of antiseptic and iodine and the faint traces of blood that trailed home with him.

"My love, are you ready to head out?" Carlisle smiled down at his wife, running the back of his fingers down her cheeks, Esme's eyes closing in content.

Esme nodded and walked towards the couch, pulling the throw blanket over her body. "I am darling. I know you're not, so go and shower. Take your time," Esme reassured, grabbing her husband's hand as he passed by her.

"Thank you for being so understanding, love," Carlisle admired, giving Esme a final kiss on the forehead.

With a sigh, Esme closed her eyes and let her mind wander off to a different place and time. Everything in her mind was hazy, much like her limited human memories.

**I'm out here with a new story, although a lot shorter than my last. It will be a lot different than the previous; however, I'm excited about this. This is one I've written before, yet I'm trying to change it up and make it better. **

**I hope you guys enjoyed the set up for the story and give this a shot. **


	2. I See La Vie en Rose

**Disclaimer: There may be some upsetting content alluding to domestic violence, read at your own discretion. **

Esme loves to spend her time volunteering at the local battered women's center and hospital. At the center, she implemented a program for the women to take an art class; as a form of self-expression and catharsis. During the time she spent there, she's had the pleasure to see how much these women flourish and blossom into these strong women.

Her time spent at the hospital was majorly at the daycare or on the peds floor. Esme felt such immense happiness and peace when she was reading to the kids that were recuperating from surgery or those whose parents were working hard in that very hospital. It was her favorite thing to come to after doing her work at the women's center; it brought back joy to her life, even if for a while.

The rain was hitting the windshield of the black Mercedes, where Esme currently sat out of the women's center. Something felt off, nothing that she would be concerned about, but she felt uneasy. Esme sighed and grabbed her bags from the back and the tray of cookies that Esme brought in for today's session — quickly escaping from the water pouring down from the dark sky. With a small smile, she pushed open the doors that led to the front desk, where a young girl was sitting behind the computer reading a textbook.

"Good morning, Esme," she greeted the vampire, discreetly admiring the way she held herself.

Esme smiled at her and wiggled her fingers at an attempt at a wave. "Good morning, Lana. How's your psychology class?" she asked, fixing the tray in her arms, feigning discomfort.

Lana sighed and leaned back in her chair before shaking her head, her bleached blonde hair flouncing around her shoulders. "It's stressful, but I'm powering through," she giggled, waving goodbye as Esme did so as well.

Esme walked through the corridors, her heels clicking against the tiles, the sound reverberating off the walls. Her walk towards the back room was quite an easy one to remember; down the hall, a right by the bathrooms, and straight down to the left-hand side; it was the most colorful room in the building. Flicking on the lights to the place, she looked around the room and smiled to herself. The tray was sat down at the table closest to the door.

Turning on the speaker and putting the music on low, she began to set up for the day. The room gently overflowed with the music of Edith Piaf, Doris Day, and even Frank Sinatra. As she placed the charcoal pencils on the tables next to the thick white paper, she let out a sigh. Oh, how did she wish things like this were available to her when she was human. How much easier it would have been to overcome the perpetual abuse that she suffered back when she was human.

How Esme would have appreciated the help; however, she knew that all her griefs and led to the extraordinary life she has now. She could still picture _his_ face when she sat in the room with all these women who - like her - dared to escape a toxic and dangerous life. After nearly a century of freedom, there was a part of her that still visited that pain; no matter how much she repressed it.

Esme's train of thought got interrupted as she heard timid footsteps walk into the room. Her eyes concentrated on the young woman whose hair was pulled into a low and messy bun, a few strands of curly hair framing her face. She wore a jacket over a knit sweater, a backpack hanging loosely over her shoulders. Her small hand reached for a cookie, her eyes darting towards Esme before she took a little bite.

"Hi, welcome," Esme's voice harmonious and welcoming, "feel free to get more, I baked to feed an army."

The young girl nodded and grabbed two more before slowly making way towards the front, closer to Esme. There was something about Esme that drew her to her - perhaps it was the warm demeanor and vibe that she was emitting. "Thank you; they're delicious. They remind me of some cookies I had a couple of days ago," she whispered, sliding her backpack off and slowly peeling the jacket off her body. The sleeves of her sweater rid up ever so slightly, exposing the yellowing and purple bruises on her arms.

Esme sat up from her chair, examining the bruises as discreet as she could. An array of women started trickling through the door - a couple of them regulars to her class, some of them came and went, and only a few new faces. Esme smiled and commenced with her class.

**~.~.~**

By the end of the class, while Esme was cleaning off the tables and collecting the paintbrushes from their plates as the girl lingered on, eating a few more cookies over the trash can.

"Would you like some help?" her voice broke the comfortable silence that fell on the room. Esme looked up from her hold on the paintbrushes, flashing her a kind smile and nodded.

"Sure, if you want you can rinse these off, and I'll wipe down the tables," Esme offered her the paintbrushes and moved towards the cleaning supplies once she took them from her hold. As she washed her clean the brushes, she noticed a lot more than just bruises; some cuts and gashes didn't look self-inflicted.

Esme suddenly froze in place as a couple of the gashes and bruises looked similar to the ones she owned. Every single memory hit her like a truck; her pleading endlessly, her face wet and red from tears as Charles held onto her wrists screaming in her face, and when she hit against the cupboards, the plates breaking around her. It's been decades since she even had such a vivid memory, let alone a single bruise bring them back.

"Your class was excellent. I'm glad I listened to my mother in laws doctor," Esme was startled when she heard the voice in front of her face.

"Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it!" Esme beamed at her, genuinely happy at the compliment. It always brought her great happiness when she received an appraisal of her endeavors. "Your mother-in-law's doctor recommended my class?"

"Yeah, Doctor Cullen thought it would help me greatly," she shrugged, grabbing her backpack off the floor.

Esme looked at her in awe and smiled knowingly. Of course, Carlisle would direct her in her direction. "Well, Doctor Cullen is quite right," she giggled.

"You're his wife, aren't you?"

"I am," she answered triumphantly.

"I could tell by those cookies; I've only ever had them when Doctor Cullen brings them."

Esme smiled and grabbed her belongings as she walked with her out the door, locking up behind her. "I'm Esme," she introduced herself.

"Natalia."

**~.~.~**

The chapel is frequented by hurting mothers, wives, children, and doctors sometimes. It's an odd place to visit when you feel like your world is crumbling at the seams. At least it seemed so for Natalia. No matter how many hours she spent on her knees praying for some miracle, it seemed as if it was never going to happen. To wish for the demise of her mother-in-law was morbid; however, she knew that they'd be free.

The chapel doors opened quietly behind her, and she heard the old wooden pews creak beneath the weight of someone's body. Perhaps it was a mother praying for the speedy recovery of her child. Wiping the tears off of her face, she pushed herself off the pew and grabbed her phone and was shocked to see Doctor Cullen and his wife sitting there together.

Natalia studied them, appreciating the way they held onto each other with so much love and care. "Natalia," Esme greeted her, with a genuine big smile on her face. Natalia wasn't accustomed to people being happy to see her, other than Violeta, her mother in law.

Natalia waved and exited the room, as Carlisle still had his forehead rested on his clenched fists that held onto the golden crucifix around his neck. It was rare, she thought, for a doctor to be so in touch with his faith.

The chapel was always dimly lit - no harsh fluorescent lights that made it seem as if they were in heaven. Once she stepped into the busy hallways, she felt vulnerable to the world. It wasn't always this way, sadly. Natalia's world turned around when she got married at the age of eighteen to the one, she thought was the love of her life a year ago. He was five years older than she was, although now she's aware he was probably grooming her at that point. Everything was fine for the first month or two; they were delighted and in love. Now that time has elapsed, he made her life a living hell.

Everlasting nights of violence have become her new norm; endless hours in the mornings where she would attempt every trick in the book to cover her scars, bruises, and anything that would set off any alarms. It was easy to cover everything at school, as she took early morning classes or night classes when the weather was crisp and called for sweaters.

Ever since her mother-in-law was admitted to the hospital after suffering a massive stroke, paralyzing the majority of her body, she found some escape. She would spend every moment with Violeta, avoiding her abusive home as much as she could. The hospital was her pink filter to see life in rose - _la vie en rose. _

Back in Violeta's room, Natalia was busy reading her book, oblivious to the fact that Carlisle had entered the place to check up on her before he left for the day. Natalia looked up from her book and noticed that the crucifix he once clutched onto is now hidden. "I didn't know you held onto your faith," Natalia questioned, not looking up from her book.

Carlisle chuckled as he placed another IV bag on the hook before turning to look at Natalia. "I do, I find it comforting, and it's a big part of me," he explained, the sound of the pen scratching on paper echoing through the room.

Nodding, she ran a finger over a tender spot on her thighs, where she knew an enormous bruise was beginning to form. "You don't find it hard?"

"Elaborate," he mumbled, flipping through the charts, genuinely intrigued by what she had to say.

"Look, I'm assuming you've seen some pretty fucked up shit happen to amazing people," Natalia explained softly, Carlisle smiled to himself, she wasn't wrong. "What I'm saying is, I've had some pretty shitty stuff happen to me, and I believe I've been nothing but a decent human being. How can I believe in a God that will enable things like that to happen?"

"It is hard, truthfully. However, my faith is much higher than any ounce of doubt I have in my body," his voice soft as he closed Violeta's chart and tucking it under his arms.

"Does it help to have someone in your corner, religiously, that is?" Natalia asked, sitting up even straighter, letting out a sigh.

"My Esme supports me immensely, and it's a great help."

"I've just had a bad experience with religion," Natalia let her hair fall from her bun and began to fiddle with the split ends.

Carlisle sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder, approaching her in a manner he knew was safe; he had to learn the hard way with Esme. "As did I," he finished off and exited the room.

Absentmindedly, his fingers lingered over the silhouette of the cross underneath his dress shirt. His everyday work and his overall existence challenged his beliefs to this very day, and he felt guilty for it. Carlisle sat the chart on the nurse's station that overlooked Violeta's room. His heart ached for both Violeta and Natalia - it was more-so that he envisioned Esme in a similar position as Natalia.

_A few days earlier, as he was preparing to take Natalia up to surgery once again, he noticed a distraught Natalia pacing down the hallway with her phone in her hand. Her hair was a disheveled mess and had a bright red handprint mark on her left cheek. _

_Carlisle furrowed his brows as he got closer to Natalia, he noticed a faint smell of liquor lingering on her person; however, he deduced that it wasn't directly from her ingesting it. Traces of blood were mixing with the scent of alcohol, making for a slightly different combination. _

_"Natalia?" his voice was filled with concern as he noticed the way her lips were stained with blood residue. _

_Natalia cowered over and hid her face from the doctor that she was able to confide in. "C-Carlisle," she stuttered, bringing down the sleeves from her sweater to cover her blood-stained hands and new cuts that were still bleeding. _

_"Is everything alright?" Carlisle asked, reaching to touch her shoulder; however, he brought it back immediately when he noticed the way she flinched away, and her heartbeat hastened. _

_Natalia shook her head fivoursly, avoiding all eye contact. "I can't," she blubbered out, unable to speak as the sobs were wracking throughout her body. _

_Carlisle understood and had an intern stay with her as he moved Violeta into the OR, promising to be back and check on Natalia. _

_Once he returned, that was when she spilled the beans. From the very first day, he's ever raised his voice at her to a few hours before she showed up to the hospital. Natalia had gotten home later than expected from school, unable to start on dinner when she wished. Her husband, in a drunken rage, grabbed every plate and glass in reach and tossed them at her. There were shards of glass and porcelain ricocheting from every surface and onto her skin. There were more gory details that Carlisle wished to block out of his memory, for the sake of his sanity. _

_With every story she recounted, Carlisle's fury only intensified. All he could envision was his Esme's face in every scenario, knowing very well she went through very similar predicaments, if not worse. _

_So, there he was, pleading with her to get help and reach out. "My wife Esme, volunteers at the local women's shelter, go there. Even if it's to join group discussions or take her amazing art class, you will benefit." _

_Before he left, he left the card to the building, hoping she'd go. _

_Esme waited for Carlisle at the foot of the elevators with her coat in hands, her hair that was once in an intricate Dutch braid was now loose in beautiful waves around her shoulders. Esme was wearing a soft burgundy sweater with a v neck, dark jeans with heeled booties – the accessory he was a big fan of was the way her smile widened when those elevator doors opened and their eyes locked. _

_"Hey, you," Esme breathed out, Carlisle kissing her forehead tenderly. Despite the fact of only seeing her a mere few hours before, they relished in the moment where they met once again. He held onto her as they walked towards the car, the rain echoing around the parking structure of the hospital._

_Once they reached their car, Carlisle kissed Esme with such a longing and passion. Esme was caught off guard, but nonetheless returned the same passion that Carlisle exhibited. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she breathed out when she felt his arms tightening around her waist, pulling her closer to his person. "Carlisle," she mumbled against his lips. "What's brought this on?"_

_"I'm sorry love, I'm just so glad you're safe," he breathed out, resting his forehead against hers, making eye contact with Esme. _

_Esme smiled and nodded, her mind wandering off to Natalia who she hoped and prayed she was safe. "As am I, my darling."_

_**This was only a two-shot, hope you enjoyed nonetheless!**_


End file.
